Come Hellfire
by Revalacy
Summary: The fires of Hell will come, and with it will follow death. Should the dragonfires remain dark, so will the world.


_**The Elder Scrolls IV- Oblivion**_

_**Come Hellfire**_

_Author's Notes: I've been meaning to write this story for awhile, and I finally finished the main quest again, giving me ample inspiration to write my own version of the story. Be warned, this will contain some strong language, adult themes, at points it will greatly differ from the original, and most importantly, there may be spoilers, so if you don't want anything ruined, I don't recommend you read this. If you'd like to enjoy an epic story, however, I invite you to sit back and enjoy "Come Hellfire."_

* * *

**Siege**

The sky cracked and exploded across a barren land of blood and corpses, pouring itself over the groaning survivors in solid sheets of freezing liquid that stretched itself as far as any man or elf could see. Outnumbered thrice over though they were, no man nor mage nor beast of any kind could bring them to falter of fear, for they battled on with the fire of ten thousand, though they only numbered at five score and six. The rain tasted of sulfur and iron. It came with thunder that shook every man to the core, that howled like a gale from hell. It came with fear that chilled to the bone, that gutted and twisted them more painfully than any blade or magic could. They fought tirelessly, mercilessly, but their enemies swarmed relentlessly.

Water's Edge had once been peaceful and lovely, situated just north of Leyawin on the western banks of the Lower Nibben river. The village itself was picturesque and calm, or it had been. It now lay in ruins, the buildings destroyed and burned to the ground. What was left was very little, and all of it was charred. The hordes of the damned had little care for the dead and dying innocents. They thirsted for blood, and they'd have their desire one way or the other.

Miria'maya Vilaqri crouched behind a wall of corpses that reeked of decay and blood, stealing but a moment of safety to catch her breath while flashes and bursts of magic flew her way. They smashed into the bodies, and suddenly the smell of burning flesh joined the suffocating odor that filled her nostrils.

"We're going to have to retreat soon," her companion said stiffly, ducking behind the makeshift shield with Miria'maya. "You shouldn't even be out here as you are."

She flashed him a dangerous glare. "I'm well enough to defend our city," she snarled viciously. He was right though. Her belly was swollen with the child in her womb, and her wounds were dragging her down. Even with her skill, there was no way she'd survive another sleepless night of never ending battle.

"To Oblivion with the city. I'll not let my wife and only daughter die out here in this shit and blood," he growled. Thane Vilaqri was just as stubborn as his wife. He meddled with the torn mithril he wore and thought hard.

"What do they want?" another man gasped, one hand clasped over his belly as he fought to hold his guts in. "We've been fighting for a week and no one seems to know why!"

"Menien spoke with them," Miria'maya said in a low voice. "He said-" and she was cut off as another spell impacted the bodies. Blood sprayed over their heads.

"What did he say?" asked Fithragaer, the bosmer holding his stomach tightly.

"They're not here to retrieve anything," she replied, then glanced at her husband and took him tightly by the hand. "They're here to kill me and anyone else who knows about the baby."

"What?! Why!?" the wounded wood elf exclaimed.

"I don't know, Menien never said they gave a reason."

"Then your baby must be truly important."

"Indeed she is," came another voice, this one deeper. Miria'maya locked eyes with Menien Goneld for a brief instant. "I didn't think they'd go to this length to see your death, but it appears I was mistaken," he said.

"It would certainly appear that way," Fithragaer grumbled, and ran a bloody hand through his soaking, matted hair.

"You must depart, Lady Vilaqri," murmured Menien, who ignored the bosmer's words.

"I'm not leaving."

"You must, if your child is to survive. And she _must_ survive, m'lady."

No one spoke for what felt like hours. The blood-soaked muck they squatted in exploded as more spells impacted their hiding place. Their fellows fought valiantly several paces from the small group that huddled behind the fallen bodies of comrades. Miria'maya had paid them little heed before now, except to see that they were still alive every now and again, but now she noticed something queer about who, or what, they did battle with. She'd hardly had time to process the scene when someone screamed, then another, and another still. She and her fellows covered their heads as a fresh spray of blood washed over them.

"To oblivion with this, you're getting out of here," Thane growled. "And no amount of argument is going to make that any less a fact, now get moving!"

She stared at him for a heartbeat, then grabbed the front of his mail and kissed him fiercely on the mouth. "You better follow us, or the Nine damn you," she whispered.

"Love you too," he smirked. "Menien, Fithragaer, get her out of here. I'll hold 'em off long as I can."

Miria'maya Vilaqri never saw her husband again. The date was the 26th of Last Seed, 3E414.

-x-0-x-

Maurina D'Larestta worried as she went about her chores within the great temple of Akatosh, bustling about the cold stone chapel, sweeping grime from the cobbled floors, clearing cobwebs from the vaulted ceilings, magicking away the sicknesses of the denizens. Ana had been missing for days, and old Menien was beginning to show his strain. Any man might have shown strain after the first few hours, perhaps a day or two, but Menien was not just any man. And because the old man never showed a sliver of emotion if he could help it, Maurina found plenty of reason of her own to fret. She doubted it very much if Ana would have gone on one of her adventures without at least telling Menien. Quietly the girl chewed her lip as she pondered this. Had she more time, she might have made her way over to Menien's house and questioned him about his granddaughter's disappearance. Had she more time, she might have looked for the missing bosmer herself.

Had she more time.

Her thoughts were rudely and abruptly interrupted when suddenly, there was screaming. Someone crashed loudly into the temple, closing the door behind her. "Maurina!" Tierra called across the chapel. "Maurina, you have to get-"

Something outside exploded and Maurina staggered.

"Get out of here, out of the gates! Make your way to Captain Matius and he'll get you out."

"What? Why?" she asked, aghast.

"Go!" she shouted. Maurina obeyed, and bolted out the door. A sickly stench greeted her as she ran through the streets, tripping over her own cotton robes. The smell that clung to the air choked her and she faltered, shaking. Fire spread from building to building, engulfing them in sequence despite the rain that poured over them. She spotted the gates, how close they were. Her mind drifted to the safety that lay beyond, of running past those great gaping maws of fire and grouping with the other survivors. She imagined how she might tell Ana the tale when she returned, of how jealous Ana would be when she learned that she'd missed the greatest adventure of a lifetime.

Something shouted in an alien tongue just to her right. A creature with black skin bared its fangs to her in a gruesome smile and she pushed her legs harder. Another looked her way and she screamed.

And then she felt something strangely cold in her chest. As she glanced down, she saw something silver and peculiar protruding from her chest. She was having difficulty breathing. Had that silver thing always been there? Surely not, because she'd never had this much trouble drawing air before. Then came the pain when she saw the bright sanguine stains that spread across her robes. Her legs shook.

"Ghhn... no..." she groaned, shuffling towards the gates as fast as her failing legs would allow. She was growing dizzy.

_"It's okay, I've got you!"_ some distant voice said, but she hardly understood. Got her? How could they get her? She wasn't saying anything. Several pairs of hands lifted her. She didn't think anyone had ever taught her to fly, but then, how was she off of the ground? It was all very confusing. Of course, she knew by now what was happening. Her soul was being taken away. She stared at the sky helplessly and didn't fight as the hands carried her away from the fire. She laughed to herself. It was funny, she had thought she'd live to a ripe old, boring age.

She was only seventeen.


End file.
